"Ares. James, where is Ares?" Maya asked, completely panic-stricken.
If Maya hadn't asked, Detective Cross would've completely forgotten about Ares.
"Ares!"
"Ares!"
"ARES!"
They called out with panic in their voices while people rushed past them, running to safety.
"ARES!!!" Maya screamed at the top of her lungs, scared out of her mind. She walked through the empty garden, endlessly searching for her and still nothing.
Detective Cross watched as his wife became insane from worry. He closed the distance between them grabbing her by the shoulders.
"Maya, you need to calm down," he said softly but it was futile. Maya didn't hear a single word he said, looking anywhere but him.
"Maya, honey, YOU NEED. TO CALM DOWN," he repeated, this time shaking her back to reality. When she finally made eye contact with him, he quickly said, "Take deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out." He said, inhaling and exhaling, and Maya followed suit.
When he finally got her to calm down, he quickly fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. After notifying the police he turned to Maya again, "I have to go. I will find her. Okay?"
"I want to go with you," Maya disagreed.
As a mother, she felt responsible for losing Ares, so she wanted to find her no matter what. It was her idea to take Ares out for a walk and she lost her on her watch.
How can she possibly not feel responsible?
"No, I need you to stay here. At least one of us should stay here in case Ares comes back here. Okay?" He asked again and this time Maya nodded her head in agreement. With that Detective Cross turned to leave after kissing her on the forehead and headed in the direction of the Emergency Room.
While in the ER, Ares silently watched everything, recounting the things she saw in Maya's [life]. She remembered how everything was supposed to go down, how Maya was supposed to leave ten minutes after numerous failed attempts to get her to open up. She lived through the moment where Maya's husband escorted her to her car and she somehow sprained her ankle on the way. So, he took her to the ER to treat her wounds.
Like the present, Detective Cross received the same call and had to leave Maya's side. In his absence, she became a hostage and was killed in a crossfire along with those who were stuck in the emergency room. Today was supposed to be the day where countless lives were lost. A dark and bloody day. If she hadn't intervened, Maya and many more would've died.
Now the only thing she changed so far was Maya's presence which means that she won't die but that doesn't mean no one else can die. Someone will die in her place. For now, she just wanted to see how everything plays out.
"As long as you all listen nobody gets hurt." The man with the gun asserted.
With Detective Cross's [life], Ares was able to see the three people responsible for the death of his wife and she took it upon herself to remember every detail she learned about them through his [life].
Among the three of the captors, the man with the gun went by the name, Thomas Grainger and the other two were his accomplice, Kyle Boone, and Quinn Myers. The three of them have been close friends since young. They grew up in the same neighborhood and all had a rough childhood.
Jumping from foster homes to foster homes was a struggle but they kept it together and stayed together like a family. Thomas Grainger was the oldest of the three. He always played the role of a protector and at times a father to the other two The one who moved to collect the phones, Kyle Boone, was only a few months younger than Thomas Grainger. But his childish personality always brought doubt about his age to his friends.
The only thing that the two of them can agree on was when it was something that involved the youngest of their trio, Quinn Myers. They were like two over-protective bodyguards when it comes to Quinn Myers. They have stayed together like a family since young. Only they recently started facing more hardship than usual.
For the past year, they were on the verge of becoming homeless. It was hard finding a stable job that offers good pay, especially with their background. Each of them has a criminal and juvenile record. Who would want to hire them?
So, they thought that they could make some fast money by robbing a small community bank. Just one job and they'll be set for a year. But it didn't go as planned and it ended with Quinn getting shot. Which got them into this situation, stuck in an ER that was closest to the bank they tried to rob.
Thomas Grainger turned to the doctor, pushing the muzzle of the gun against his temple, saying, "Now, you're going to fix her up and if she dies, you die. Got it?!"
The doctor looked up at Thomas and then to the treatment room, where he saw their female companion sprawled on the table as blood dripped down from the table to the floor forming a pool.
"Okay," he simply answered. Despite knowing that his captors are criminals, his honor as a doctor was on the line and he swore on the Hippocratic Oath that he would treat the ill to the best of his ability regardless of the patient's standing.
Thomas Grainger stood outside the treatment room, keeping watch. While Kyle went to stand beside Quinn, holding her hand with a solemn face. The doctor slowly got back onto his feet and went to examine Quinn. He saw that she didn't look like she's in her early thirties. She's maybe at least in her mid or late-twenties. Her breathing was coarse, and her face was ghastly pale with sweats building up by the side of her face. Her body was trembling. She was going into shock. At the rate that she's losing blood, she'll soon die from blood loss.
"Do any of you two know her blood type?" He quickly asked the other two captors.
"No."
"No."
They answered at the same time.
He didn't mind if they didn't know her blood type, but it would've saved him the time, looking for a blood type kit. He scoured through the cabinets for it till he found it in the far back corner of the cabinet. He reached out to retrieve it and hurriedly moved to test for her blood type. As soon as he got the results his face turned pale with shock and fear.
Of all the blood types, it just had to be this. His luck today was just crappy.
"How is she?" Kyle Boone asked when he noticed the dark look on the doctor's face.
"She lost too much blood. At this rate, she'll die without a blood transfusion."
"Then why aren't you doing anything?!"
"We don't have any blood bags of her type."
"What do you mean you don't have any blood bags of her type? This is a damn hospital for God's sake! How can you not have any blood bags?!" Kyle Boone grabbed the doctor by the collar of his gown and yelled menacingly.
"She's AB-negative. Only one percent of our donors have this blood type, and we are fresh out of AB-negative. I can go and get some more from the blood bank. But I highly doubt you'd let me go. Even if I were to go retrieve a bag of AB-negative she'll die before I get back. I can't do two things at once," the doctor reasoned.
But Kyle Boone was unconvinced. He didn't trust him, and he wasn't going to start anytime soon. He turned to look at Thomas, "It's your call. What do you want to do?"
Thomas looked Kyle in the eyes, troubled. He heard everything they spoke about, but his mind was clouded by his anxiety and worry for Quinn. He faced Quinn, looking at her with a heart-wrenching expression. Since young, he watched her grow up into a beautiful lady. She was bright and full of life and deserves a better life. So, he sure as hell isn't going to watch her die.
BRINGG! BRINGG! BRINGG!
The sound of the landline phone ringing cut off Thomas's train of thought.
"What do we do?" Kyle asked, watching the phone light up.
"Here, I need you to take over. Take the spare," Thomas handed him a spare semi-automatic handgun and went to answer the call.
"Is this Mr. Thomas Grainger?" The sound of a voice came over through the other end of the line.
"Who the hell is this?!"
A deep male voice answered from the other end of the line saying: "I am Special Agent Lucas Montreal of the FBI. Now Thomas, let's talk about what you want."
Special Agent Lucas Montreal was a considerably handsome man. Not even in his mid-twenties. Despite how serious and aggressive he looks, he's protective of the people he cares about. He was a well-respected federal agent and a working man. His team would follow him to the face of the earth without hesitation.
"It's not about what I want but what I need. And what I need is a car and a doctor with a blood bag of AB-negative," Thomas firmly demanded.
"I'll get back to you about that car but for now, I can get you a doctor and the blood bag you need," Montreal said before hanging up.
Outside of the ER, squad cars were lined up at every entrance and exit while policemen stood behind them with their firearms directed at the ER.
"Alvarez! Get me a doctor on standby and make sure they have spares of AB-negative blood bags," Montreal ordered, handing the phone over to one of his men.
"Yes, Sir!"
"Special Agent Montreal. I'm SPD Detective Cross. What's the situation?" Detective Cross asked, showing his credentials.
"Hello, Detective Cross. As much as I would love to answer your questions, I'm afraid you are way out of your jurisdiction," Montreal said, dismissing him.
"I'm sorry but that won't do. It's either you let me in on the loop or I'll go in there myself. Because there's a slim chance that a child, who is under my care, is in there, probably scared out of her mind! And that girl has been through enough hell. So, what do you say, Commander Montreal? Will you give me jurisdiction or are you going to stand in my way?" Detective Cross spoke with assertiveness. His face, showing no sign of backing down.
Montreal looked at him, contemplating because he knew that there was no way Detective Cross would take no for an answer. He rubbed his temple, feeling a migraine coming on before turning to Detective Cross.
"Mills! Give Detective Cross here a radio," he finally gave in after long contemplation.
"Sir, I have the doctor ready on standby. Just waiting on your order," Alvarez came running with a male medic by his side.
Not long after they got the medic, they started setting him up with tap wires and explaining to him his role and what he needed to do. Detective Cross wanted to go as a substitute for the medic, but Montreal didn't want to risk agitating the captors, putting the hostages at risk so he denied Detective Cross's request. Instead, he asked the medic to keep an eye out on a girl who fits Ares's description.
After sending in the medic, Special Agent Montreal and Detective Cross watched the live feed that was shown from a spy camera that they placed on the medic bag. The medic carefully walked into the ER with his hands in the air until he was finally out of sight.
Inside the ER, Thomas Grainger came forward to search the medic for any concealed weapon and came out empty. Kyle stood behind him, watching his back with a gun trained at the medic.
"I need his help and the blood now or she'll die!" The doctor boldly spoke up, rushing his two captors, who were still conducting a body search on the medic.
Kyle and Thomas knew that the doctor wasn't lying and signaled the medic to join the doctor inside the first treatment room.
From the live feed, Montreal and Detective Cross got a good look at the situation inside. There were a total of 19 hostages: 17 were patients and family members, 1 was a nurse while 1 male doctor was busy saving one of the captors. Montreal was able to capture a clear image of the two male captors. Detective Cross, on the other hand, didn't see any signs of Ares in the feed.
The medic placed the bag on the table, took out the blood bag, and handed it over to the doctor. Kyle and Thomas watched as the two men worked to save Quinn, but something caught Thomas's eyes. It was a blinking red light on the side of the bag. The medic saw where Thomas was looking at and he felt his blood run cold. He moved backward, attempting to cover the bag from Thomas's line of sight. But it was too late. Thomas had already noticed it.
Thomas quickly went to grab the bag, pushing the medic out of the way. On the bag, he found a small, circular camera lens with a red light, blinking.
On the other side of the camera, they watched as Thomas plucked the spy camera from the bag and brought it close to his face for a closer look. They watched as Thomas's face changed from a discerning look to being infuriated.
"You son of a b*tch!" Thomas violently threw the spy cam on the ground and stepped on it before directing the gun at the medic. Those who were outside lost sight of what came after and started preparing.
Ares, who was watching silently on the side, felt an ominous air lingering in the atmosphere. She looked at Thomas Grainger, noticing the air that was emanating from him. Something was wrong and no one could prevent the oncoming slaughter.
Except her.
From behind the information desk, she found a surgical scrub cap lying on the desk and a white lab coat on a chair. She adjusted her hospital garb, making it look like casual wear, and threw on the lab coat over it. She slickly tied her hair up into the surgical scrub cap, hiding every article of her silver hair from sight. Without any hesitation, she went out into the open, placing a surgical mask over her face.
The hostages faced down on the ground heard steps but still kept their faces down. Afraid that they'd die. At the sight of Ares, Kyle Boone stood alert more than ever, training the gun at her.
"Stop right there!"
Ares stopped with her hands in the air. Her gaze fixated on Kyle. They both locked eyes and Kyle couldn't help but stare at Ares. Her unnaturally beautiful gem-like blue eyes drew him in until after he felt terror stirring in his chest. He felt the need to pull the trigger. His hand started shaking and with only a slight movement of his finger the gun went off.
BANG! BANG! BANG!